A Jade Shimmy
by Nikki Hasselhoff
Summary: Lavi only wanted to relax and enjoy a famous dancer's performance. What he did not expect was for this relationship to blossom into one far more intimate. Lavi Bookman X Allen Walker (Laven). Alternate Universe. Plot twists and lemon scenes.
1. The First Night

This was not Lavi's first time at a club. He had gone to a different one with a more suggestive name (the Black Rabbit) once before, but that had been after a particularly long and difficult week at work. After nearly drowning in cleavage, the bookman had pretty much sworn off clubbing. However, his working life had become tedious to the point of unbearably dull. He needed at least one night of blaring music and blinding lights to clear his head.

Lavi had arrived earlier than most customers. The dancers were not even here, yet-only a few scumbags who preferred to drink away their problems. Lavi teetered his glass with one finger, but he did not touch the amber poison inside. He was not partial to ruining his mind and limiting his senses by drinking toxin made to appear edible. He had merely bought the "beverage" so that the bartender would not kick him out before the real show began. Like most businesses, the Jade Club tended to be kinder to paying customers than browsing bums. If nothing else, Lavi had purchased himself a few hours of customer service.

The bookman watched the other customers with disinterest and dreaded all the work with which he would be tasked tomorrow, the forsaken Monday. In this way, he passed the time until the party-goers arrived. The change that overcame the entire club was vibrant and loud. The pale lights turned to flashes of pink and green, illuminating off of the tiles. The idle background music grew annoyingly loud, the low bass pounding its way into Lavi's eardrums with unnecessary force. Bodies flooded the club to move mindlessly to the music. Lavi watched the new arrivals, still uninterested. A few girls in scanty clothing strutted past, pointed at him, and snickered. Lavi eyed them dully. They were attractive, yes, but their brains could not keep up with their breasts. They were ornaments—pretty, but generally useless—lovely, but not beautiful. They were not the reason he was here.

Why was he here? He certainly had better places to be, but news had spread about a famous belly dancer without a name who would be coming to perform at this club. Lavi could appreciate a good performance, and he did not mind looking at pretty women.

"Hey, Cutie, you new here?" a girl appeared close to Lavi. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes clouded. She did not look completely inebriated, but she was definitely drunk. "Why don't we play a little?"

The girl tried to climb onto Lavi's lap, ignoring the bookman's attempts to pull away from her. "No, wait—" he protested.

"What's wrong, Good Boy?" she teased him. "Scared of getting your hands dirty?"

"That's not—" He was cut off by the feeling of her hand reaching between his thighs. Before he could stop himself, he was shoving her off of him. " _Get off!_ "

The girl fell to the floor. She glared up at him with a hurt expression. "What's your _problem?_ " she wailed, beating his leg with her uncoordinated fist, unsteadily standing, and stomping waveringly away.

Lavi watched her go, but his attention was distracted when the lights changed. They focused on the center of the stage where everyone was dancing. An announcement blared through the speakers: "Everyone, please step aside to welcome our guest performer, the nameless dancer come here for all your pleasure. Just remember: keep your hands off the merchandise."

The people all around made way, clearing a space for the guest performer. She was quite a sight, really. She was pale; even her hair was white. Her face was decorated with elaborate, red markings. Her left arm was a fleshy maroon color, and a green cross was tattooed on the back of her hand. Her outfit was nothing short of stunning. Her black-and-silver-sequined top hugged her shapely breasts. Beads draped down in front of her toned midriff, and her back was almost entirely exposed. She had short hair, so her angular shoulder blades could be seen jutting out against her skin. Her backside was covered by a triangular skirt bedazzled like her top to match. Her nails were painted black, and her skin was clear of blemishes, except for her arm and the markings on her face. Her gray-shadowed eyes—

were looking straight at Lavi.

It was just for a moment, but if Lavi's thoughts had possibly been somewhere else, they were now fixated on the dancer. The music started, and she began to dance. She moved slowly at first. Her hips seemed to move of their own accord, separated from the rest of her body. Her feet did not move very often, but, when they did, they only accentuated her movements. Her stomach muscles stretched and collapsed. Her shoulders rolled mesmerizingly both with and against her movements. Her arms were like serpents, weaving, waving, winding. A few people lewdly watched her, but she blocked them with some part of her body. She was smart and lovely. She was unique and talented. She was beautiful.

She danced for hours. Her skin glistened after all that time, but she did not seem to tire. Lavi watched her all the while, transfixed. Each time her eyes met his, his heart would beat painfully fast, and his face would heat up. He was grateful that all of the light was on her and not him. She finished her last dance with an astounding ending pose. The people watching her clapped and wooted. Lavi's hands met each other fiercely. He watched her bow once, twice, thrice, then step through the crowd to enter a backroom. Lavi felt a compelling urge to follow her, to talk to her, if only to compliment her incredible performance. Most of all, though, he longed to know her name. He waited, eagerly watching the door, but she did not reappear. He sighed. Well, he had seen for what he had come. Leaving his poison on the bar counter, he weaved through the crowd toward the exit. Fortunately, that intrusive, inebriated girl did not appear again.

Lavi started down the sidewalk. The buildings on either side of the street rose high above him, separated by individual alleyways. Cars followed close behind one another on the pavement. The concrete was wet with a recent rain, and the air reeked with the smell of pollution and cigarette smoke. God, he hated this place: the city. There was so much rush and business, and the air was positively suffocating.

As he stepped past the alley between the Jade Club and one of its neighboring buildings, he heard, buried within the background noise of the city, a faint, but audible, _click_ of a door being closed. Lavi turned, and his heart skipped a beat.

It was her. She had changed into a loose-fitting T-shirt and overcoat. She wore sweatpants and tennis shoes. All of her clothing was some shade of white or gray. The change in her appearance was surprising, but, to Lavi, she was no less beautiful. She started down the alley in the opposite direction. Before Lavi could stop himself, he was following her. He was halfway down the alley by the time she turned around, a fire in her eyes, her stance strong, one hand guarding her face, and the other wielding an extended pocket knife that she had drawn from her jacket pocket. "Why are you following me?" she demanded.

"Whoa, whoa," Lavi stepped back and held up his hands. "I don't mean any harm."

"You don't, now." Her eyes glinted dangerously. "What do you want?"

"Um," Lavi's words stuck in his throat. He swallowed and brought them up again: "I-I just wanted to compliment your performance. You're a great dancer."

"Thanks," she replied shortly. "Now, if that's all you have to say, beat it." Still holding her knife at the ready, she turned with apparent care and took her leave, glancing over her shoulder from time to time to assure that the bookman did not pursue her.

"Wait." Lavi took one step forward.

She swiveled to face him. "What do you want, _now?_ "

Lavi could not help feeling even more flustered. "I was, uh, just wondering if-if I could, um, get your number. Would that be alright?"

At first, she looked outraged. Then, her face curled upward in a mischievous grin. "Alright, sure. I'll give you my number."

"Oh, uh, thanks. Just a moment, please." Lavi scrambled through his pockets in search of his phone, found it in his coat pocket, and prepared to enter a new contact.

"Five, five, five—three, eight, two—five, six, three, three. Now, fuck off." She turned and strutted confidently away, even folding the knife and putting her hands in her pockets.

Lavi scrambled to type the number into his phone. When he looked up and saw her leaving, he called, "Thank you!" Before entering her name into the new contact, however, Lavi called the number. The tone rang three times before being answered by an old man who seemed rather irritated at being called by a stranger. The man was on the verge of an angry rant by the time Lavi hung up. Despite his disappointment, Lavi was relieved to know that the nameless dancer was too beautiful to let anyone soil her.


	2. The Second Night

That was not the last night the nameless dancer would be performing. She was scheduled to dance every night this week. Lavi was able to finish his work that dreaded Monday and still have time to spare at the Jade Club. When he arrived that evening, the party-goers were already grinding away on the floor. Lavi took a seat at the bar and waited for the mysterious dancer to appear.

Sure enough, on came the announcement, and the dancers made way for the nameless dancer. Her motions were fluid just like those on the previous night. Her hips swayed mesmerizingly. Lavi watched as she moved like a snake, shimmied like a sound wave, and kept lewd participants in her dance at bay. Lavi watched her for what must have been hours. He was enraptured by her movements. The partiers cheered her on, and Lavi found himself joining the throng's raised voices. The whole scene seemed to move to her command, until a muscular man with glazed eyes snuck up from behind and laid his hands upon her.

The other partiers rioted with cheers, but Lavi felt a wave of shock wash over him as the nameless dancer turned her head to see her harasser, her eyes wide. The partiers roared their approval as the man slammed her against his body and fervently groped her breasts. Her mouth opened in a shriek, but Lavi was the only one who heard her above the raucous crown. He was the only one who saw her struggling against the pervert's hands. Lavi stood and started toward her. He saw the man's hands pressing and rubbing her body fiercely. One hand snaked its way downward. His fingers forced their way into the dancer's decorated skirt and—

She screamed.

Lavi raced toward the two of them, his anger pulsing in his head like electric shockwaves. The man looked up in surprise as he approached. Using his momentum and strength, Lavi pushed the man off of the dancer. The man released her as he fell to the ground. He looked up at Lavi, wide-eyed, as the bookman shouted, " _Keep your revolting hands off of her!_ "

The man's surprise turned to anger. He bellowed some colorful names at Lavi and tried to stand, but his legs wobbled under his own weight. The drunken man fell on his back and was out like a light.

Lavi turned. The nameless dancer was watching him, her expression that of unsureness, her red arm clasped over her breasts, her right hand shielding her groin. Lavi met her eyes and asked, "Are you alright?"

She nodded hesitantly. Then, she turned and ran to the back room.

"Wait!" Lavi followed after her. Before he could reach her, though, she slammed the door in his face. Lavi stopped in front of it, placing his hand on the door and murmuring longingly, "Please, will you open the door?"

To Lavi's surprise, the door cracked open. A red arm reached around its edge; the hand with the green cross tattoo gripped his sleeve and pulled him into the room. The door closed behind him, a lock clicked, and he was shrouded in darkness.

After a moment, dim, yellow lights from the ceiling illuminated a plush room. One wall had a series of wing curtains protruding from it, horizontal to the entrance. A red-carpeted walkway separated the wings from a line of vanities supplied with various cosmetics. On the wall opposite the entrance was a door, which, Lavi presumed, was that which led into the alley between the Jade Club and its neighboring building.

Lavi felt the grip on his sleeve release him. He saw the nameless dancer stride past him to sit at one of the vanities. He watched her take a plastic package from the materials before her, pull what looked like a baby wipe from the parcel, and gently wipe the makeup from her face. She ran the wipe over her elaborate red mark. Branches of it melted away, but the base remained intact. Lavi inquired, "Is that a tattoo?"

"Yes," she replied simply.

"It's an interesting design. I've never seen one like it," Lavi commented.

"I had it implemented in honor of my foster father," she explained, pushing her white bangs aside to wipe makeup from her forehead and temples.

"Did something happen to him?"

"He died when I was very young."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's fine. He wouldn't have wanted me to mourn over him for long. He used to always tell me to keep moving forward, to never look back." She stopped speaking for a time as she wiped her eye shadow from her lids. "This tattoo is a reminder of that." She finished wiping the color from her eyes, examined her face in the mirror, and, standing, moved behind the wing curtains, ordering, "Don't look back here. I have to change."

Lavi stayed put. Then, "I'm curious: what convinced you to let me in?"

Lavi heard the rustling of clothing as the nameless dancer replied, "I wasn't going to, at first, but, then, I figured it would be rude to run off without a proper 'thank you'. After all, you did save me from that pervert back there." She stepped out from behind the curtain. She was now wearing a white hoodie, gray sweatpants, high-rise socks, and white tennis shoes. Lavi's single green eye met her gray ones as she graced him with, "So, thank you." She returned to her vanity to run her brush through her thick, short, snowy locks.

"You're welcome," Lavi replied, the words feeing strange on his tongue. He felt unworthy to say such a thing to someone so famous. After all, he was only a bookman—a fancy name for a file clerk. It was an honor just to be in this dancer's presence, let alone to be thanked by her.

The dancer ran the brush through her hair one last time, set it on the vanity, and started toward the back door. Lavi followed her out of the room, turning off the light and shutting the door behind the two of them. She "tsked" and said, "Yeah, thanks for helping out, but, seriously, go home. I don't need a bodyguard. That was a slip-up. Believe me; it won't happen again. I can take care of myself."

"Oh, I'm sure of that," Lavi replied sincerely. "It's just…well…"

She glared at him dangerously. "Well, what?"

"You gave me a fake number," he said curtly.

She "tsked" at him again. "You think I'm dumb enough to give my real number to a stranger?"

"No," Lavi answered earnestly. "Actually, I think you're pretty brilliant."

She huffed and started up the alley. Lavi kept pace with her. "You're an amazing dancer," he complimented her. "I think you're an equally amazing person, and I'd love to get to know you better."

"Cut the crap," the she scolded him. "Seriously, you're full of it."

"No, I'm serious," Lavi protested, struggling now to keep pace with her accelerating gate. "I want to see you more often. I want to know more about you."

She swiveled and gripped his shirt collar. Lavi yelped as the nameless dancer slammed him against the wall of the alley. Her gaze was fiery. "Alright, Loverboy, I'll make you a deal: you come to my performance tomorrow night. Stand at the very front of the crowd so you and I will both have a fine view of one another, and meet me in my dressing room afterward. I'll give you a show you'll never forget. Got it?"

Although it seemed like a pretty good deal, something in the nameless dancer's tone intimidated Lavi. Nonetheless, he nodded. She released his shirt and walked purposefully away from him. He watched her go, but did not attempt to follow her again that night.


	3. The Third Night

The Third Night

 _Crap,_ Lavi thought as he raced to the Jade Club that Tuesday night. He had had to waste two extra hours at work reorganizing a cabinet that had been sorted numerically, rather than in the boss's preferred alphabetical order. Lavi had been in such a hurry to return to the club that he had completely forgotten his work bag at the office. Oh, well. he would worry about that later. Right now, a pretty girl was expecting him. He burst through the doors of the club and weaved his way through the collage of bodies to the front of the crowd.

There she was, moving to the music. Lavi almost forgot to dance, himself, as he preferred to watch her. He willed his body into motion in order to appear natural amidst the crowd, but he froze when the nameless dancer's eyes met his single emerald orb.

She grinned mischievously, and her movements seemed to flare. If it were possible for her to look even more stunning, she did. It was all Lavi could do to prevent his mouth from falling open. She had fluidity, flare, grace, and sturdiness, and she kept her eyes on him the entire time, as if this performance were for him and him alone. Lavi was utterly transfixed.

The performance seemed to end as soon as it began. The nameless dancer ended with a fantastic pose, and the crowd went wild. The performer grinned meaningfully at Lavi and retreated to her dressing room. The partiers flooded the dance floor once more; Lavi made his way to her backroom. Reaching the door, he swallowed his anticipation, opened the door, and closed it quietly behind him.

The nameless dancer sat in her vanity chair, but she was not looking in the mirror. Instead, she was watching the door through which Lavi had just come. Her gaze rested on his face as she ordered, "Lock the door."

He did.

She stood and strolled leisurely toward Lavi, her feet stepping one in front of the other, her hips working like pistons. Lavi felt a twinge of heat in his face at her sensuality. She spoke: "You were late."

"I'm really sorry. I got tied up at work. I got here as quickly as I could." He nervously pinched his tie, which he had not had the chance to remove. Trying to make up for his lame excuse, he added, "You were gorgeous out there."

She stopped an inch away from him. She was a little shorter than him, but he could still feel her breath ghost over his lips as she looked into his face and said simply, "I know."

Lavi was startled by the feeling of her fingertips tracing down his arms, his hands, and his fingers. His anxiety peaked. "Wait, what are you doing?"

She grinned satisfactorily. "I'm giving you a show you'll never forget." Her hands moved to his watch. Her nimble fingers undid the clasp, and the time-telling device fell to the ground. Her hands moved to his tie. As her hands undid the knot, she planted her lips on his neck, leaving tender kisses on his skin. Lavi suppressed a gasp at the interesting sensation. "Wait, don't-" he pleaded, unsure as to whether he were enjoying this or not. "Stop…."

"I don't think you want me to stop." She pushed him back against the door as she unbuttoned his polo, now that his tie was no longer in the way. He trembled as her warm tongue peaked out of her mouth to trace down the skin exposed with each undone button. She paused twice, the first time to lap at his trachea, the second to tongue his flesh navel. He felt his legs tremble uncontrollably. It were as through she were working a spell over him. He felt himself sliding down the door as her hands rubbed his chest, fondling his pecs, causing his shirt folds to separate enough for the fabric to fall down his shoulders.

The nameless dancer brought her face close to Lavi's ear. "If we're going to play, then we're going to have to move so nobody hears us, unless," –Her lips curled into a smile against his skin.—"you're into voyeurism."

"N-no…"

"You don't want to move?" she taunted him, obviously knowing what he had meant. Her tongue streaked along his earlobe, while her hands pulled off the remainder of his shirt.

"No, let's-" Lavi felt uncertainty and embarrassment overriding his sense of logic, so he fell back to animalistic instinct.—"let's move to somewhere more…more private."

The nameless dancer chuckled. She pulled away from Lavi, took his hand, and led him behind one of the wings. The two sat on the floor before one another. She was the first to speak: "If we're going to do this, I expect you to participate."

"Wha-?" Lavi blinked at her. He was not even sure he _wanted_ to do this, but then his mind wandered: he could see her sensual body removed of all the constraints of clothing, worming, cringing, writhing beneath him. He could hear her gasping, moaning, begging for more. He felt heat pool between his legs. He could distinctly feel her tight wetness wrapped around the most sensitive part of his body as he pounded mercilessly into her.

"I see that lewd look in your eye," she whispered breathily. "Come get me, Tiger."

Instinct overwhelmed him, and Lavi pounced. He smashed his lips against the dancer's. She wrapped her arms around his neck and obediently opened her mouth when his tongue pressed against her lips. He ravaged her mouth, while his hands worked their way under her top. He tried to fondle her breasts, but, instead, encountered something strange. He pulled his lips away from hers to examine what his hands had discovered. He had worked her top upward enough to see balls of fabric that had been stuffed into it. She had powerful-looking pec muscles, but she was unexpectedly flat-chested. "You stuff?" he said, looking into her face.

She grinned wanly. "Are you disappointed?"

Honestly, he was not. To him, she was just as beautiful as she would be if she were more developed. To prove this point, he leaned down and pressed his lips to one of her nipples. He heard her moan in pleasure. One of her hands entangled its fingers in his hair and pressed his head down onto her breast. He licked the pink bud eagerly, then sucked. Her back arched in response. One of Lavi's hands pinched her neglected bud. After a moment, his hand and mouth switched. He enjoyed the gasps and moans elicited by his sucking. He separated from her for a moment in order to remove her top completely. He pushed aside the balls of fabric so that she was just as topless as him.

Lavi's hands moved down to her sides, and he rubbed them. She glided a few inches across the carpet, up and down, up and down, up and down. The sight excited Lavi even more. It was exactly the way he pictured she would move. He felt his pants tighten uncomfortably.

The dancer grinned at his enthusiasm, her eyes draped by thick, black lashes. "What do you say we get this show on the road?"

Lavi panted at the very thought. He hurriedly flung off his shoes, socks, and pants. He hesitated at his underwear, but, after a moment, he removed that, too. The nameless dancer watched him lewdly. Her gaze absorbed his naked body before meeting his eye. "Alright, Loverboy," she said, taking one of his hands and putting it on her hip. "Go for it."

Lavi ecstatically took hold of her skirt and pulled it down her legs.

He froze. His eye rose to meet her face.

The dancer smiled wanly at him. "Surprised?" Ze closed zir eyes and laid zir head down on the carpet, a satisfied look on zir face.

Surprised, yes. Offended, no. Lavi wrapped his arms around zir body and pulled zir close until he could feel zir heartbeat. He whispered, "What gender inhabits this body?"

The dancer's eyes widened. "What does it matter? My sex is what it is."

"A person's sex doesn't matter to me," Lavi said. "Please, answer the question."

The dancer's mouth fell agape. Zir muscles tightened anxiously. There was an intense moment of silence before Lavi heard a response: "M-male. I'm male. I just dress like a woman for the sake of dancing. People seem to prefer watching a woman dance, rather than a man."

Lavi pulled away slightly to smile down at his mate. "What is your name?"

The dancer blinked, his face the color of rubies. "Why do you care? Don't you understand? You're about to fuck a guy. And _guy!_ Why are you still here?"

"I don't mind," Lavi said nonchalantly. "You're the same person to me."

The dancer stared at him with incredulous eyes.

"What is your name?" Lavi repeated patiently.

The dancer watched him for a moment longer. Finally, his face relaxed. His eyelids fluttered until his thick lashes rested low over his eyes. "A-Allen," he said quietly. "Allen Walker."

"Allen Walker," Lavi said, rolling the syllables around his mouth, tasting and savoring their flavor. He pressed his forehead to the dancer's. "It's delightful to meet you, Allen. My name is Lavi."

"What's your last name?" Allen questioned.

"I don't use it. I've just always gone by Lavi."

"That's not fair. I told you my last name," Allen whined.

"Yes, but people who know you use your last name, don't they?"

Allen opened his mouth to protest, but he seemed to reconsider and fell silent.

"Allen," Lavi said, his tone deeply serious, "are you sure you want to do this? If you want to back out, now is the time."

Allen stared at him, a million thoughts racing through his stormy eyes all at once, a thousand emotions conflicting and combatting with one another. Lavi stared into those deep pools for a long time before Allen finally said, "I-I promised that you could do what you want with me."

"You're sure?"

"Yes." Allen looked away. "Just do what you like."

Lavi felt euphoria bubble up in him. He placed his hands on Allen's lower back and leaned in to kiss him, whispering, "Thank you." Their lips met softly. Lavi lowered his face down Allen's body, planting kisses on his neck, chest, and abdomen. One of the bookman's hands moved from the dancer's back to his front. Allen gasped as that same hand wrapped around the most sensitive part of his body and lovingly caressed it. "Lavi…"

"It feels good, right, Allen?" Lavi moved his head downward, freed his tongue, and dragged it up Allen's sensitive organ.

" _Ah! Lavi!"_ Allen twitched uncontrollably. "That-That's gross! Don't-"

Lavi ignored him and licked him again.

"Lavi, please-!" Allen's legs trembled on either side of the bookman's head. "Stop!"

"Why?" Lavi asked, his thumb idly playing with Allen's tip.

"I-I can't stand to see someone do something so repulsive."

"Allen, it's your own-"

"I _know!"_ Allen covered his face with his hands. "Please, Lavi, just don't do that. Please?"

Lavi shrugged. "If you say so. Shall we just continue, then?"

Allen grimaced. "Yeah, I guess."

One of Lavi's hands stroked and pumped Allen's front, while, after sucking his fingers, his other hand inserted one digit into his tight channel. Allen released a gasp of pain. He was tight, _seriously_ tight, and that gave Lavi a bad feeling. He tried to ignore it as he waited for Allen to relax enough to insert a second finger.

Allen's legs shifted as Lavi wiggled the two digits inside of him. The dancer's flexible legs pressed inwardly against Lavi's sides. "Allen," the bookman said to him, "you have to relax; spread your legs more."

"Lavi…" he said breathily, tears forming in his eyes, "it hurts…."

"That's why you have to relax, Allen. Just imagine how good it's going to feel."

Allen did not respond to that, and Lavi's disconcerting suspicion grew in his mind. Nonetheless, he felt Allen relax and spread his legs wide. "There you go…" Lavi cooed, inserting a third finger.

" _Oh, Lavi…"_ Allen sighed.

Lavi curled his fingers inside of his mate. The boy moaned loudly and brought his knees up higher. His rainy eyes leaked tears, and a trail of saliva trickled from his mouth. Lavi gripped his front hard to distract the boy from the pain. Allen gasped and bucked his hips. He was leaking heavily onto Lavi's hand. The image of the dancer writhing beneath him came to mind again, only, this time, Lavi's lust was for the body of a male. Removing his fingers, he lifted Allen's hips and entered him.

" _Oh! Lavi!"_ Fingers dug into Lavi's back. " _Ha…ah!"_

"Allen…are you alright?" Lavi sighed, barely able to control himself at the moment.

The boy's panting gradually slowed until he had a fair amount of control over his breathing.

"Allen, may I move now?" Lavi requested a little desperately.

Allen huffed a few more times, then whispered, "Yes…."

Lavi eagerly took Allen under the knees and pushed into him.

"Ooh…Lavi. Oh, oh, _oh..."_

Lavi moved slowly, restraining himself to the point of madness, but Allen's erotic moans were driving him up the wall. He actually sighed in relief when he heard Allen beg, " _Oh, Lavi,_ grab me. _Take_ me. Push into me _harder…."_

Lavi happily obeyed. One of his hands moved from Allen's thigh to his groin and squeezed him hard. As he did so, he thrust fearsomely into the boy's body.

"Ah, ah, _ah, Lavi,_ oh, _yes,_ Lavi! _Right there!"_

Lavi angled himself to hit Allen's sweet spot over and over again.

" _Lavi, oh, Lavi! Harder…faster…please!"_

"Allen," Lavi said, his voice strangled by pure bliss, "I-I don't…want…to hurt you…."

"I don't—oh, _oh,_ -care! Give me _more!"_

Unable to stop himself, Lavi slammed into his mate. "Ah, Allen, _Allen!"_ The boy felt so hot around him; Lavi knew they were both close to toppling over the edge.

"Ha, _ha,"_ Allen gasped. "Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't you _dare_ stop. I want it, Lavi. I want _you."_ He huffed, panted, sweated, and wriggled under Lavi, tears of pleasure and pain escaping his eyes.

Lavi pounded relentlessly into Allen's writhing body, his hand squeezing him hard.

"Ah, ah, Lavi, I don't think I can—I'm going to—gyah, _Lavi!"_ Allen screamed his name as Lavi forced himself into his body one last time. The bookman released deep and hard into his body, desperate to leave his mark inside of him. He felt Allen's tension in his hand, but before the boy could climax, Lavi carefully pulled out of him and wrapped his lips around Allen's sensitive organ.

" _Lavi!"_

Lavi tasted Allen's seed as it entered his mouth. It almost leaked past his lips, but Lavi dogmatically swallowed it. When Allen was finished, he collapsed on the floor. Lavi fell, panting, beside him. He wrapped his arms around the boy's body and held him close, pressing the boy's head against his collar bone. "Allen, you're amazing. Are-Are you alright?"  
Allen did not reply to his question. Lavi held him at arm's length in order to examine him properly. "Allen, what's wrong?"

Allen still did not speak. He eyed Lavi, his expression undeterminable.

"Allen?"

"Get out."

Lavi blinked. "What?"

"I said, 'Get out!'" Allen tore himself away from Lavi and stood shakily. "Out, out, _out!"_

Lavi sat up to stare at the boy, whose hands covered his groin. "Allen, calm down. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Allen snapped. "What's _wrong?_ You were supposed to run. Do you understand what you've done?"

Lavi's dreaded suspicion returned. He slowly shook his head.

"That was my _cherry,_ you _prick!"_ Allen appeared to be on the verge of tears. "You-You insensitive _bastard!_ Why didn't you run like all the others?"

Lavi blinked. "You…were a virgin?"

"Yes!" Allen hiccupped.

Lavi asked as carefully as he could, "Who were the others?"

"The _sensible_ ones—the ones who left as soon as they pulled down my skirt." He reached down, gripped Lavi's pants, and threw them at the naked bookman. "I was saving my first time for someone special, but, instead, I have it taken from me by some guy who doesn't know when to quit. Get out of my dressing room, you _freak!"_

"Allen…" Lavi said softly. He watched quietly as sobs shook the boy's small frame. Allen backed away from Lavi, his head bowed, hiding his tear-stained face behind soft, white bangs. It hurt Lavi to see him in so much turmoil. Slowly, Lavi stood, saying, "You told me it was alright. You said I could do as I liked. You…you begged me for more."

"Shut up!" Allen wailed, pressing his arm against his face where his eyes would have been if Lavi could see his face. The boy hiccupped and broke out in a fresh set of sobs. As he wept, Lavi reached down to retrieve his boxers from the floor. While pulling them on, he heard Allen say in a broken voice, "You're an adult. You should know better than to-to take advantage of a kid in the heat of the moment."

Lavi knew he was not speaking sensibly, but that did not prevent the wave of fear and realization that caused the blood to drain from his face. He regained his pants and pulled them on, using small motions to avoid frightening Allen. He repeated quietly, "A kid?"

"Yes!" Allen affirmed, seeming to cling enthusiastically to the information.

Lavi took his shirt from the ground and pulled it onto his arms. As he buttoned up the front, he inquired, "Allen, how old are you?"

Allen lifted his face. His eyes were red and wet. "Fifteen."

Lavi's eyes grew wide as he stared at the boy. "Oh, god…"

"That's right," Allen said, "and if you don't leave right now, I'll call the cops on you. Get out."

Lavi watched him for a moment longer before taking up his tie and watch. Once he had finished dressing, he glanced around him, found the set of baggy clothes he assumed Allen had brought with him, took the bundle, and handed it to him. Allen glared at him, but took the clothing, nonetheless. Suddenly, he gasped and fell forward.

Lavi barely had time to catch him. Holding the boy close, he asked, "Are you alright?"

"It-It hurts, Lavi…." His voice was soft, at first. Then, it grew hard. " _Don't touch me!"_ He pushed himself away from Lavi. He stumbled and barely managed to catch himself. "Just-Just go. Leave now."

Sorrow washed over Lavi upon hearing those words. He placed Allen's clothes on the ground and stepped toward the back door. He opened it, took one last look at Allen's back, and stepped outside, softly closing the door behind him. Then, he made his way back to his apartment, feeling confused, dejected, and lonely.


	4. The Fourth Night

The Fourth Night

Allen,

Although you sent me away, I yearn to see you,

To hear your voice,

To feel your touch,

To entangle our bodies once again.

Allen,

If you ever need me, I'll be there.

If ever you call, I'll come.

If ever you're in pain, I'll hold you close

And kiss your wounds.

If you need me,

I'll stop the bleeding;

I'll end the pain;

I'll wipe away the tears,

Yours, as well as mine.


	5. The Fifth Night

The Fifth Night

Allen was dancing on a hilltop. Lavi sat on the ground, witnessing the spectacle. There was no music, no flashing lights, no crowd-just Allen dancing. Moonlight was the only source of illumination. The boy was wearing his dancing outfit, except the balls of fabric were not tucked into his top. Still, the way he gracefully moved his hips gave him a more feminine appeal. That did not matter to Lavi, though. The fact was that Allen was beautiful.

Allen finished his dance with a fabulous pose, turned, and graced Lavi with a smile. The bookman grinned back at him, knowing that this wonderful performance was entirely for him. The white-haired boy stepped languidly toward him, his smile turning seductive, a dark look in his eyes. He did not have to speak for Lavi to understand his intentions.

Allen closed the distance between them. He leaned over Lavi, arching his back as he did so. Lavi's legs bent so they stood next to Allen's sides. His blood coursed excitedly through his veins as the dancer leaned in to kiss him. Lavi closed his single emerald eye, eagerly awaiting the sweet taste of Allen's lips. The dancer's nimble arms wrapped around his neck,

but the lips never came.

Lavi opened his eye. It took him a moment to register the look of horror on Allen's face. A shadowy hand wrapped around his beautiful, pale face. Four more hands grabbed the dancer's arms, pulling them away from Lavi's neck. They forced those graceful arms behind the boy's back. Allen struggled helplessly. Lavi reached out, tried to reclaim the boy, but his body moved as if through crystallized honey. The hands pulled the white-haired boy away from him. The hands multiplied until there were dozens of them. They splayed him on the ground like a frog ready for dissection, too far away for Lavi to reach him.

Allen's eyes met Lavi's single one. His silver orbs pleaded, _Lavi, help me!_

Lavi's opened his mouth to call out to the boy, but no sound could escape his molten throat. He was helpless to do anything but observe. He was mute, frozen, useless.

 _Lavi!_ Allen's voice wailed in his mind. The boy's shoulders curved as though to break his bonds and reach for Lavi, but the hands restrained him. Their fingers ground into his flesh; nails bit into his skin, leaving red marks behind. Allen gasped in pain as they raked against him, scratching him, tearing at him with violent vigor. His muscles tensed as he struggled, but more hands appeared to constrain him with death-like grips. _Lavi!_

There was a flash,

and Allen screamed.

A diagonal slash decorated his exposed stomach. Crimson blossomed from the wound. Allen panted and wailed in pain. Lavi's eyes moved, trying to locate what had inflicted the injury. It did not take long from him to find the source: one of the hands was wielding a long, deadly knife.

 _Allen!_

There were more flashes, more screams. It was unbearable to watch, but Lavi was incapable of turning away. Streaks of rose ripped through the fabric. The hands enthusiastically gripped the boy's loosened clothing and tore it from his wet frame. The hands tore at him until he was helplessly exposed to them. Voices rose from the ground. They hissed at the sight of his sex. Lavi could see the boy shivering with cold and fear. Allen and Lavi's eyes moved to follow an action that was accented by the light of the moon, one performed by the hand wielding the deadly blade.

The knife rose,

and came down once more.

The world went deaf to the scream that ripped through Allen's throat and broke his jaw, rending the air with the muted sound of agony. Blood spattered like ruby rain. The horror of it made Lavi light-headed. His vision dimmed. His lips forced themselves apart, and he cried out.

" _Allen!"_

Lavi woke with a start, his hand reached toward nothing. He was panting and coated in a cold sweat. He turned to lie on his back, gripping his heart until it settled into a more natural rhythm. Replays of his nightmare chased each other around his mind. A thought firmly affixed itself to the forefront:

 _Allen. I need to see Allen._


	6. The Sixth Evening

**Lemon, lemon, lemon.**

The Sixth Evening

Lavi hurried to the Jade Club. It had been the longest Friday of his life. The ticking second hand of the clock in the office had been loud and mocking. The day had been lethargic, the work tedious. The hours only passed at a somewhat reasonable pace when the bookman thought of Allen. The redhead was haunted by flashbacks of his nightmare. He had tried to block it out by focusing on his frustratingly monotonous work, but that was almost no better. He loathed this job. He was a grunt, underpaid, and overworked.

For the moment, though, his thoughts focused on Allen. This was the second-to-last night the boy would be dancing at the Club. After tomorrow night, Lavi had no idea where the boy would go. He was anxious to see him dance again, desperate to cherish every last moment with him before he was gone.

When the bookman reached the entrance to the Club, he stopped and hesitated, remembering that Allen had sent him away. Allen did not want to see him again as Lavi did him. What was the good of being here? Doing this would only make Allen's departure more heartbreaking. Maybe Lavi should just go home.

Lavi yanked the door open. _Allen, I_ need _to see you._

The lights were colorful, the music loud. The partiers were out, but the dancer was not. Lavi took a seat at the bar and waited impatiently, ignoring the bartender who attempted to offer him a "beverage". _Allen, where are you?_

As if on cue, the music dimmed.

The crowd parted.

And there he was.

The music morphed into a mysterious, Middle Eastern tune. Allen was dressed in his black and silver belly dancing uniform. His face was painted with ornate makeup. He was effeminate, elegant, and beautiful. Lavi watched him, enchanted. He hoped to catch the boy's eye, but the dancer was heavy-lidded and did not appear to see anything. That was when Lavi heard another voice: "Hey, Sexy. What are you doing here all by yourself?"

Lavi's gaze released Allen to see who had spoken. His eye widened. It was the same girl he had met the first night he had come here. She did not appear to recognize him. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" she purred. She looked tipsy, maybe even drunk this time. Lavi watched her for a moment before shifting his gaze back to Allen. He felt an electric shock when he saw the dancer staring straight at him. Their eyes met for a moment before the performer looked away. That was when Lavi concocted an idea.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?" the girl whined.

Lavi refocused on her and adorned his best seductive grin. "Yeah, I'm listening. What brings _you_ here?" He took her hand and brought it to his lips in a gentlemanly manner. The girl went scarlet in the face as he continued, "Did you come to play?"

She giggled. He leaned forward to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her toward him. "Oh!" she gasped in surprise as he spread her legs and placed her on his lap.

"Go on," Lavi whispered in her ear. "If you want to play, then play."

The girl's lips curled into a smile. She gripped the front of his shirt and slowly moved her pelvis against his. Lavi's eye casually moved in Allen's direction. The dancer was hardly moving anymore. His stormy eyes were wide and fixated on Lavi. The bookman smirked, but his attention was redirected to the girl once again when he felt her grind particularly hard against him. He outwardly smiled to encourage her, but inwardly winced in disgust. Her drunken movements were clumsy, but, nonetheless, physically arousing. Still, Lavi's heart was protesting violently against this. This girl was not the one he desired. She moved, rubbed, and grinded, moaning a little too loudly for the public setting. Lavi pressed back against her, accepting the physical sensation as much as he dared. He only froze when he heard the distinct sound of practically-stomping footsteps approaching the two of them. He looked up and was shocked.

It was Allen. Had his performance ended? No, it couldn't have. Not enough time had passed. The music was still playing, yet here he was, glaring daggers at Lavi. Somewhere, a man protested, "Hey, you're still in the middle of a performance. What do you think we're paying you for?"

Allen curtly replied, "Pay me for the hours I danced and no more. I have some important business to which I must attend."

The man made breathy noises in protest, but Allen simply ignored him, gripped Lavi by the wrist, and yanked hard. The bookman had to catch his feet as he was pulled out from under the girl and off his chair. The girl fell from his lap. She protested louder, but the dancer was already pulling Lavi through the crowd, the colorful lights, and the deafening music. "Allen, what're you-?"

" _Shut up,_ " the dancer barked, his grip tightening on Lavi's wrist. The two approached the door that led into Allen's back room. Allen used his free hand to open the door, pull them both inside, and lock the door behind them. It was pitch black in the room until Allen switched on the lights. Lavi watched him step away from the door and toward his vanity. Rather than sitting on the chair before it, though, he reached behind it and pulled out a large object with a deep green tint. Lavi watched as Allen took it by the muzzle and pressed the end of it to his lips, gulping down its contents without a second thought.

"Um, aren't you a little young to be drinking, Allen? How did you get ahold of that?"

"I thought I told you to shut up," Allen said, pulling the bottle away from his lips to approach Lavi. He held out the toxin to the bookman. "I'm a fifteen-year-old boy who belly dances at a nightclub. You think they care if I drink?"

"True." Lavi glanced at the bottle Allen was offering to him. "Um, no thanks, I don't drink."

Allen glared at him, his face darkening with an alcohol-induced blush. "Just do it. Do it, or I'll force this bottle between your teeth."

Lavi stared at him. "Allen," he said softly, "why are you doing this?"

"Just _do it,_ Lavi!" he wailed, forcing the end of the bottle between Lavi's lips. The vile liquid poured into the bookman's mouth. He could have just spit it out, but, seeing Allen's desperation, he reluctantly swallowed, shuddering as he did so. Allen's dim eyes examined him, drinking the sight of him. His free hand rose to stroke the fabric of Lavi's shirt as more liquid poured into the bookman's mouth. Lavi obediently swallowed every last drop.

The process repeated for a while. Allen occasionally took the bottle away to allow Lavi to breathe and to down some of the contents for himself before returning it to the redhead's lips. Allen pressed his body more and more firmly against Lavi's, causing the redhead to gasp and moan needily. Still, his dimmed conscious mind was desperate to pull away. He tried, but, lightheaded from alcohol, he collapsed to the ground. He attempted to rise again, but Allen climbed on top of him and smashed their lips together, his hands roaming over every inch of Lavi's body. The bookman moaned involuntarily. His morality was screaming how wrong this was, but his body and heart agreed that it was so, so right.

"Mmm…Lavi…" Allen moaned, straddling the bookman to grind his pelvis against the redhead's.

The bookman panted and gasped. "No, we can't do this. You're too young for this."

" _Shut up!_ " Allen snapped. "I don't _care,_ Lavi. The only reason I'm doing this is because you're an insensitive prick."

Lavi blinked incomprehensively. Then, he realized, "Wait; do you mean that girl out there?"

"Shut up, Lavi."

The bookman knew he had hit the nail on the head. He was about to disregard Allen's repeated order once again, but that was when Allen's fingers began fumbling with the buttons of his polo. "Allen, wait, no-!"

" _Enough, Lavi!_ I hate this. I hate you and the way you prevent me from thinking rationally. Why do you insist on playing with my emotions like this? You're such a jerk…."

"I…" Lavi murmured weakly, unsure of what to say. He had not meant to offend Allen or come off as impulsive, but he had. He had only wanted to get the dancer's attention. Well, now he had it.

Allen roughly undid the buttons of Lavi's polo and leaned down to kiss and suck at his newly-exposed skin. Lavi moaned as Allen's lips parted, and his teeth nipped the bookman's neck. "Allen…please, you don't have to…to do this."

"Lavi, I swear to god, if you say one more word, I will hit you over the head with that bottle and fuck you unconscious."

Lavi swallowed hard and did as he was ordered. He felt Allen's hands on his chest, pushing the folds of his shirt aside, caressing the firm pec muscles underneath. He felt his face growing hot. He broke out into a sweat of anxiety, arousal, and aggravation. He panted, focusing all his efforts and preventing himself from touching Allen. He was paranoid that Allen _would_ call the police on him if he put his hands on the boy or tried to flee from him. All he could do was attempt to endure the younger boy's erotic touch without responding too pleasantly to it.

Allen's hands moved to his stomach. His face was flushed with alcohol. His eyelids were heavy, his eyes dark with lust. Lavi felt the dire urge to put his lips to the younger boy's, but his intoxicated mind restrained him. He felt Allen's hands stroke his abdominals. The fingers of the whittet's right hand curled under the rim of the bookman's pants, while his left hand traversed lower to molest his groin. Lavi's muscles tightened at the pressure and movement through the fabric. He groaned and panted, "Ah, Allen, _Allen…ah!"_

Allen undid the button of the bookman's pants and pulled the zipper down, moving his pants down his thighs. The rough touch of his left hand groped Lavi through his underwear. The increased sensitivity of this contact and Lavi's inability to respond left his tortured mind and body reeling in frustration. The muscles in his neck felt stretched taut. He slammed his head back and shut his eyes, trying desperately to control his shaking hands. He heard Allen mocking him: "Aw, what is it, Lavi? Your face is turning red. Is it frustrating?" Lavi felt him whisper in his ear, "I can hear what you're thinking right now. You want to put your hands on me." He moved downward to remove the bookman's footwear. "You want to touch me,"—He stripped Lavi of his pants.—"fondle me,"—He took hold of the remainder of Lavi's shirt and tore it off of him.—"grope me,"—His hand gripped the rim of his underwear.—"make me moan in pleasure,"—He slid the undergarment slowly down Lavi's legs before tossing it aside, leaving Lavi's body completely exposed.—"make me beg for more,"—He attacked Lavi's neck, kissing, sucking, nipping, making Lavi cry out in pleasure.—"grab my hips,"—He sat up and pulled off his own top, revealing his petite, yet strong, chest. His voice dripped lewdness with his next words.—"Wrap your strong hands around my oozing cock…"—He stood and made a show of pulling off his skirt and curving his irresistible body as he languidly crawled back onto Lavi's tormented form.—"penetrate me…"—He brought two fingers to Lavi's face. Lavi watched the fingers for a moment, then met Allen's gaze. The whittet grinned expectantly at him. He pushed the digits between Lavi's lips, and the bookman obediently sucked and licked them. Despite what Allen was saying, he was uncertain of who would be penetrating who.—"thrust mercilessly into me…"—Allen removed his fingers from Lavi's mouth, a thread of saliva connecting their tips to his lips.—"turn me sideways…"—He pressed one of his saliva-lubricated fingers to Lavi's entrance. The bookman felt a wave of fear and anticipation wash over him. He shuddered.—"lift my leg high into the air…"—Lavi gasped and cried out Allen's name as the younger boy's finger pushed into him.—"slam your hard cock into me…"—The finger wriggled inside of him, leaving Lavi with the strange feeling of being loosened. A second finger joined the first, and Lavi moaned at the sensation.—"make me scream…"—The two digits scissored inside of him, making him feel stretched and accessible.—"make me jerk and writhe…"—He pulled his fingers out of Lavi to lift his hips high into the air. Lavi tried to call out to him to stop, but he was cut short by the pain of being entered by something much bigger than two fingers.—"and make me cum so hard, I won't be able to stop."

" _Allen!"_ Lavi screamed. " _It hurts!"_

"Shh…Lavi, just relax. Let me in. Let me inside…." He pushed once into Lavi's tight body, causing the bookman to cry out. Allen chuckled and grabbed hold of his throbbing member.

" _Allen!"_

The younger boy squeezed and pulled. He purred, "Mmm, Lavi, you're so hard and wet and…and…"

He did not finish his statement. It did not matter to Lavi, though. His senses were on overdrive from the pain and pleasure Allen was driving into him. The whittet started to move, pushing and pulling slowly in and out of him. Lavi panted, and, after some time, felt his body begin to relax. In response, he felt Allen move faster, push harder. The whittet moaned, "Lavi, you're so tight…. Have you never bottomed before?"

"Allen…don't…don't tease me…."

The younger boy pushed into him hard and squeezed him powerfully at the same time. Lavi howled at his forcefulness. Allen warned, "You don't tell me what to do. I'm having my fun, here. Let me play with you."

Lavi found it impossible to disobey. The pain he had felt was quickly diminishing, leaving behind a mind-numbing pleasure. "Ngh…mmm… _mmm…_ Allen, please, give it to me. I want…more…."

"Ha…ha…" Allen sounded as though he were laughing and panting at the same time. He pushed harder and faster. Lavi felt the power behind his thrusts as he established his place in his body. Being penetrated felt so strange and, yet, so…wonderful. Lavi lifted his knees so Allen could—"Oh, farther, Allen. Push deeper…."

Allen began to pound into him, pulling almost entirely out before thrusting in once more. Lavi felt himself being moved up and down the rugged floor. "Lavi…" Allen gasped. "I'll give it all to you…." He took Lavi's leg, lifted it, and hooked his knee over his shoulder. Lavi wailed in peaked arousal as Allen turned him and drove fearlessly into him.  
" _Oh, Allen!"_

The younger boy's hand pumped him furiously as he thrusted without a trace of hesitation. Lavi cried out as the pulls of orgasm started to take hold of him. The speed and power of Allen's thrusts assured him that the whittet was close, as well.

"Mmm, Allen, more. _More!_ Give it all to me. _Ah! Oh, oh,_ Allen…it's…so…good! _Hah!"_

The dancer was relentless. He pushed into his mate so hard and fast and deeply, Lavi was completely plowed under with passion. It was not long before Allen came, thrusting hard into Lavi's body, causing Lavi's own release to coat their stomachs. Allen fell, panting, on top of his older partner, his eyes drifting closed as he promptly fell asleep on Lavi's chest.

Lavi's mind was reeling. His body hurt, and, yet, he felt so…sated. He stared down at the boy asleep on his chest. He could feel his deep breathing and slowing heartbeat. The bookman softly stroked his hair for a moment before attempting to sit up. That was when he realized that Allen had not entirely released him. He shifted his legs in discomfort. "Allen, he said, taking the boy by the shoulders. When the sleeping dancer did not respond, Lavi gently shook him. "Allen, come on; wake up."

The boy's eyes opened slowly. His face was flushed with alcohol. His hand curled into a fist, and he lightly thumped Lavi's chest. "What do you want?" he demanded, his voice tired.

"I need you to pull out," Lavi said a little desperately.

Allen moaned in displeasure. "Deal with it," he replied, his eyes closing sleepily once more.

Lavi shifted again, groaning loudly to indicate his discomfort. "Allen, _pull out."_

The smaller boy groaned irritably and sat up to remove himself from Lavi's body. The bookman, finally released, reached to reclaim his clothing. He pulled on his shirt and rebuttoned it, straightening his collar. He then reached for his remaining articles in order, careful not to move in any way that hurt too much. As he was pulling on his pants, he noticed Allen watching him, almost scrutinizing him. Although his eyes portrayed nothing besides boredom, there was a poutiness in his lips. "What is it?" Lavi asked, wincing a little as he zipped and buttoned his pants.

"You aren't going to bother cleaning up?" the dancer tested him.

"With what?" the bookman retorted.

"There's a box of tissues on my vanity."

Lavi strolled painfully toward the mirrored table. He plucked a handful of tissues from the box and unbuttoned his jeans to clean off. When he was finished and the tissues had been disposed of in a nearby waste basket, Lavi looked up to see Allen was still watching him with a dissatisfied expression in the mirror. "What?" Lavi inquired of Allen's reflection.

"Aren't you forgetting someone?" Allen stated. He seemed to be watching and judging Lavi's every move.

"Sorry," the bookman apologized. He took the box of tissues and approached Allen to hand them to him.

The dancer did not accept the box. Instead, he leaned back on his hands and spread his legs. Lavi blinked, unsure of the whittet's intentions. "Um, Allen-?"

"You're the one who made this mess," Allen said matter-of-factly. "I expect you to clean it up."

"You're the one who—" Lavi tried to protest. He would have continued, but the fierce, exhausted, drunk light in Allen's eyes strongly encouraged him to shut up. Lavi obediently positioned himself between Allen's legs and went to take a tissue from the box.

"Uh-uh-uh," Allen discouraged him, his expression curled with a dominant smirk. "Lick it."

" _What?"_

"You heard me," the whittet said, putting his discolored hand to the back of the bookman's head to pull it toward his glistening stomach. "Lick it."

"But, Allen, it's my own-"

"Who's the one who said it doesn't matter if it's your own?" Allen cruelly reminded him. "Besides, you swallowed mine the first time we did this. This should be nothing for you."

Lavi could not argue against that. Allen had effectively fired his own words back at him. Hesitating for just a moment first, Lavi slowly leaned down to trace his tongue along Allen's sticky, wet skin. The younger boy's hand pressed against the back of his cranium. "Mmm…Lavi, that's good. Just like that..."

Lavi closed his eyes to hide his embarrassment. He lapped at Allen's skin, determining his progress by the taste of his stomach, thighs, and groin. His face felt boiling hot, and Allen's moaned commentary was not helping. "Lavi, you missed a spot…. There's more right there…lower…lower…mmm, oh, yes…right _there."_

Lavi was relieved when Allen was satisfied enough for him to pull away. The taste of his own release mingled with that of Allen's skin on his tongue. He could not meet the boy's gaze until he felt delicate hands turn his face upward to meet the dancer's overcast eyes only a centimeter before him. He felt the touch of soft lips meeting his that felt so gross. Lavi froze, humiliated by the taste in his mouth and the knowledge that this beautiful dancer could taste it, too. The bookman tried desperately to prevent himself from responding to the kiss. He felt Allen's lips mold to his own and press firmly against him. Lavi leaned back on his hands, buffeting the torrent of the younger boy's revived passion. He focused on breathing through his nose. In, out, in, out, in, out…

Allen's lips separated from his. The whittet was still for a moment. Lavi could feel his breath ghosting over his unresponsive lips. Finally, the boy said, "I want you to kiss me."

The bookman made no move. He was trying to process what Allen had said.

"Lavi," Allen ordered quietly, "kiss me."

"Y-You won't call the cops on me, will you?" Lavi inquired carefully.

Allen chuckled. "Not this time."

Lavi hesitated. He had permission and all the opportunity in the world, but he had resisted the temptation for so long, it now felt strange to submit to it.

"Lavi," Allen repeated, "don't make me say it again."

Only a breath passed before Lavi slowly pressed his lips to Allen's. He was about to release him when the dancer's nimble hands gripped him by the back of the head and roughly pushed their faces together. Lavi moaned in discomfort, but it melted into a needy sound as the younger boy climbed onto his lap and used to jaws to pry open Lavi's mouth. The bookman panted feverishly through his nose as Allen's tongue ransacked his mouth. The redhead let him. It was such a warm, irresistible sensation. Lavi used his every last liberty to push back against the boy, to entwine their bodies and tongues, to struggle for dominance. Allen's one repeated command had unleashed the hungry beast within him. He wanted him. Even though he had just had him in the most painful manner, he still wanted more. He nearly screamed in frustration when Allen pulled away, but his interest piqued when the younger boy said, "If you want me, redress me."

Lavi was not sure where the boy was going with this, but, nonetheless, he obeyed. Allen rose from the bookman's lap so said redhead could retrieve the pile of clothing near Allen's vanity, the clothing Lavi recognized as the boy's leisure outfit. He returned to the dancer and did his best to dress him, fitting him into his underwear, pants, socks, and shoes. He was about to pull on his shirt when the boy said, "You're going to remove my makeup before you pull that over my head."

Lavi was instantly nervous. He had never touched a cosmetic utensil in his life. His anxiety must have shown on his face, because the younger boy laughed and reassured him, "Don't worry. Taking it off isn't nearly as strategic as putting it on. I'll guide you. Get the box of wipes from my vanity."

Again, Lavi did as he was told. Allen instructed him, "Use gentle strokes. It doesn't take much, and I don't want my skin to be red and irritated for my last performance tomorrow."

Lavi took painstaking measures to tenderly wipe the makeup from Allen's face, removing the cosmetics to reveal the pale skin beneath. He ran the wipe along his cheeks, jaw, chin, upper lip, nose, forehead, and oh, so carefully over his delicate eyelids. He admired the natural beauty of the younger boy's face as the makeup came away. Once the whittet's face was cleansed, Lavi put his fingers to the boy's cheeks and leaned in to kiss the pentacle of his tattoo. "Allen," he murmured, "you're so beautiful."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," the dancer ordered. He held his arms up, and Lavi helped him redress into his shirt and hoodie. Once he was fully clothed, the boy said, "If you want me, carry me back to your humble abode and make the most passionate, sincere love to me."

Lavi blinked. "What?"

"You heard me," Allen said, holding out his arms. "Carry me like I truly am the most precious person in the world to you."

Lavi shifted uncomfortably. "Allen, I-"

"What," Allen mocked, "does it hurt, Lavi?"

Lavi blushed, but nodded, albeit a little brusquely.

Allen grinned wickedly. "That's too bad. If you would only carry me, I would let you have your way with me to your heart's content."

Lavi blinked. Once again, he imagined Allen beneath him, squirming, whimpering, _alive._ It gave him the strength and gusto to ignore his pain. Reaching down, he scooped Allen up in his arms. He was so…light. His fingers dug into the fabric of Lavi's shirt. The bookman held him close, approached the back door, and turned out the light just before opening the door and stepping outside.


	7. The Seventh Morning

The Seventh Morning

Lavi slammed the younger boy onto his bed with unexpected strength. The whittet released an involuntary gasp at the impact, which was cut short by Lavi's hungry lips on his soft, pale ones. Lavi had endured the stares of all the people on the street, had given Allen so much preparation, and had disregarded his own pain to carry the dancer here like a princess bride. He would be damned if he showed any mercy now that the boy was completely under his power.

"Lavi…" Allen panted between kisses. He moaned when the redhead forced his smooth jaws apart and invaded his mouth with his tongue. The redhead dominated the whittet's mouth and seduced his tongue into submission with brute strength. Vibrations arose from Allen's throat in weak protest, but Lavi had no intention of relinquishing him.

After a moment, their lips separated. Lavi rammed his face into the underside of Allen's smoothly-curved jaw. The boy huffed and panted as his dominator kissed and sucked the skin of his neck. Lavi kissed downward until he reached the fabric of the boy's hoodie. He removed himself from the dancer's skin to pull off the annoying article. He carelessly tossed it aside, pulled down Allen's shirt collar, and planted his mouth on the crook of his neck. He tongued the spot and sucked hard. Allen moaned in protest, "Lavi…no…I-I have to perform tomorrow. I don't want everyone to see that…."

Lavi merely took hold of his head and shoulder, craned the boy's neck, and sucked harder. The whittet moaned and placed his hands on the sides of Lavi's head in weak protest. The bookman refused to release him. He wanted to leave a definitive mark of possession on the boy's body, something to prove to others that Allen was his and his alone. He must have had his lips teeth, and tongue against the boy's skin for longer than he thought because, after a time, he heard the dancer moan, "Lavi, please, let go. It hurts…."

Lavi pulled away to see the painfully-fuchsia mark on Allen's neck. He touched his fingers to it and noticed the boy's reactive wince. He could not help the satisfaction he felt at his mate's response. "Mine," Lavi murmured. "All mine."

"No, Allen objected, taking Lavi's face in his hands, "mine. Hard and wet and mine."

Lavi grinned as Allen pushed himself up with his forearms to kiss the older. The bookman pushed back against him. They forced one another's jaws apart, tongues combatting greedily. Allen dug his fingers into Lavi's hair, smashed their faces together, and allowed himself to fall back on the bed. He and his mate were only forced apart by the need to catch their breaths. After a moment's recovery, Lavi ordered softly, "Take off your clothes, Allen."

Allen nodded. Lavi backed off so the boy could sit up and so he could disrobed, as well. Their eyes grazed over one another, dark with lust, as each stripped to bare flesh. Once they were unclad, Lavi crawled on top of the boy once more to suckle the tempting, pink buds that ornated his chest, enjoying the moans elicited from the whittet. He finished off the buds with loving licks, then put three fingers in his mouth to thoroughly lubricate them. His other hand moved south, caressing and massaging Allen's chest, stomach, and groin until he grabbed the boy's most sensitive appendage. The boy gasped, "Gyah, Lavi…oh… _oh,_ it's-it's good…."

Lavi stoked him up and down, savoring his moans. He removed his saliva-slickened finger from his mouth, slipped his hand between the boy's thighs, and pressed his middle finger into his tight heat.

" _Ah! Lavi!"_

"Just relax, Allen…." Lavi said with a consoling grin.

Allen obeyed. As soon as his entrance loosened slightly around Lavi's finger, the redhead inserted a second, scissoring inside the boy and causing him to gasp and moan in pleasure. Lavi relished the sounds of Allen's need flooding his ears. His hand around the boy's sensitive organ gripped and pulled, eliciting a drawn-out moan. Lavi commented, "It feels good, right, Allen?"

The whittet squirmed and whimpered. He whined in pain when Lavi's third finger pierced and stretched him. "Lavi, it…hurts…."

"I'll make you want it, Allen." He removed his fingers from the boy's most sensitive areas to take hold of his flexible legs. Lavi hooked the boy's knees over his shoulders and positioned his length before the dancer's prepared entrance. He pressed into him slowly, not wanting to hurt the boy, but showing no signs of hesitation or reluctance, either.

"L-La…vi!" The boy closed his eyes and turned his head to the side. His breaths were short, his expression pained.

Lavi leaned down to kiss the boy's exposed neck, spreading his legs wide with his hips and allowing himself more room to push into his mate farther. "Allen, you're so wonderful."

"Ngh…" Allen barely opened his eyes to meet Lavi's lustful gaze. His pained features were slowly relaxing. "Lavi, please, I-I need you…."

Lavi pressed his lips to the younger boy's, then pulled away as Allen gasped at the feeling of his first thrust. The whittet moaned, "Ah, Lavi…"

"That's it, Allen," Lavi panted, thrusting into him, searching for his sweet spot.

" _Mmm, Lavi._ Right there. Oh, god!" He wriggled under the force of the redhead's thrusts as the bookman found the spot for which he had been searching. "T-Take me. Give me more…harder…. Please-I want you. I _need_ you."

Lavi roughly sped up his thrusts, causing the younger boy to scream and the bed to creak beneath them. The bookman sat up, lifted Allen's hips, and continued thrusting into the whittet's sweat-coated body. The boy wailed, quivering with pleasure. He jerked when Lavi wrapped a large hand around his length. "Mmm, Lavi, yes! Grab me. Make me feel so _good._ God, Lavi…Lavi… _Lavi!"_

"Allen, you-you're so- _so_ good. I—ha!—want you!"

" _Ah, yes,_ Lavi, _yes!_ Inside. I need it inside!"

Lavi pounded mercilessly into the boy's hot body. His hand gripped and stroked Allen's member without restraint. The boy yowled like a cat in heat, and the two of them toppled over the edge, jerking violently. When it was done, Lavi pulled out of the boy's body and collapsed beside him. He took the whittet's shaking body in his arms and held their bodies together. After catching their breaths, he heard the boy whisper, "Lavi?"

"Yes?"

"Do you…still…"—He swallowed hard.—"love…me…?"

Lavi pressed the boy closer to himself. "Of course."

"Do you want to stay with me?"

"Yes, my love."

"Will you stay here or come with me when I leave tomorrow night?"

Lavi had to think about that one for a moment. The thought of never seeing the dancer again was unbearable. "I want to be with you, Allen, but I have a question of my own."

"What is it?"

"Do you really want to keep dancing at nightclubs? You have so much talent. You could become a professional dancer."

The boy was quiet for a moment. "Actually, Lavi, I was thinking of going back to school." Honestly, Lavi was not surprised to hear that the boy was a dropout. He waited for him to explain: "See, I dropped out about a month ago. I grew bored of it and desired something more interesting. I've always been into interpretive dance, so I took up the easiest job I could find. Lately, I've been wondering if I should go back just to finish high school. I mean, it's not too late, right?" There was a pause. "Where will you be going?"

Lavi had already thought of that. "I was actually thinking of attending college."

"Oh, really? What major?"

"History…anthropology, perhaps."

Another moment of silence passed. "Well, maybe I could attend college with you once I graduate high school. Maybe I could attend school here and…um, stay here with you?"

Lavi grinned, liking this idea very much. He kissed the boy's forehead. "I would like that very much." He softly caressed the boy's snowy hair. "Allen, I have a favor to ask of you."

"What is it?" the boy inquired, closing his eyes, practically purring under his lover's touch.

Lavi pushed the boy's hair behind his ear and requested. "Will you start by staying here tonight?"

"Allen nuzzled the underside of his jaw. "Of course, my love."

Lavi could not help the heat that spread throughout his cheeks at being called "love" by this beautiful boy. He felt the whitett quickly sinking in his arms. Sleepily, the boy whispered, "Do you remember the first night you made love to me?"

"Yes," Lavi murmured.

"Even after you saw my sex, even after I told you my gender, even after I expected you to leave, I said you could do what you pleased. Do you know why?"

"No," Lavi admitted. "Why?"

"It's because I had already promised myself to you." He snuggled deeper into Lavi's chest. "I had already agreed to have sex with you. Just because you didn't back out of it didn't mean I had the right to. A promise is a promise, so I'm sorry for throwing you out that night…."

Lavi allowed his words to sink in. During that time, Allen finally found a position that seemed most comfortable against his lover and sighed comfortably. Finally, Lavi said, "Allen?"

"Hmm?"

Lavi paused for a moment. "Does this mean you…love me?"

The boy did not reply. His breathing had grown deep and even, his expression calm. When Lavi saw him like that, he could not help feeling contented. He held the boy close and allowed himself to be lulled by the rhythm of his lover's slow heartbeat. An overwhelming feeling of euphoria triumphed within him. Here was the beautiful person who had once seemed so unobtainable, so high, so untouchable, unreachable, _ethereal,_ asleep in his arms, trusting him completely. He belonged to him. He belonged to him. They were together, their presents and futures intertwined.

Lavi closed his eye. "Sweet dreams, my love."


	8. The Seventh Day

The Seventh Day

When Lavi awoke the next morning, he found himself under the delusion that last night had been a dream. Then again, he could still feel the weight of a warm body lying on top of him, feel the mellow breathing of the boy on his chest. He looked down and smiled. He was still there. Last night had been a dream, but it had been real. His hand went to the boy's hair and gently caressed it. The locked were soft and messy. Lavi heard the boy moan and say something incoherent. "What was that?" Lavi inquired.

Allen turned his face and said groggily, "Don't touch my hair."

Lavi blinked. "Why not?"

"'Cause I don't allow anyone to see me when I'm not at my best."

Lavi grinned. "I can see you now," he teased.

"Shut up, Lavi."

"I can see you," Lavi repeated, concocting a devious scheme, "and I can do this!"

Before Allen could realize what he was doing, Lavi's fingers rushed the boy's neck. The boy tensed and rolled to the side, squawking and laughing uncontrollably. Between bursts of panicked laughter, he squeaked, "L-Lavi, st-stop!" He broke out in another fit of hysterical chuckles. "Wh-What are you-you-you doing? Let-Let me...go! Stop!"

Lavi merely laughed gaily and continued to torment the poor boy until Allen brought up one of his hands to push him off, his other hand being preoccupied with trying to protect himself from Lavi's relentless fingers. The bookman allowed himself to fall on the bed beside his lover, mercifully detaching his fingers from the boy's neck. Allen watched him warily and asked, "You done?"

Lavi smiled and planted a light kiss on his nose. "Yes, Love, I'm done," he reassured him.

"In that case, I'm going to take a shower."

Lavi's grin turned mischievous. "Mind if I join you?"

Allen rolled his eyes, but he smiled as he said, "You are such a pervert."

"Yeah, but I'm _your_ pervert."

Allen jumped off the bed. "Then come get me."

Lavi chased the boy into the bathroom. The technical process of turning on the shower and waiting for the water to warm was lost in the endless kisses they shared. They stepped under the flow of water. Lavi placed his hands on the boy's lower back and massaged the muscles there, felt the streams of water flow down his smooth skin. The bookman pulled away from the whittet's mouth, saw the silver eyes gazing into his face, his white locks clinging to his skin, the water dripping from his nose onto his pale lips and chin. "God, you are so sexy…."

"Lavi…"

The redhead leaned down to kiss him once more.

They washed, turned off the water, and dried off. After dressing, Lavi followed the whittet toward the vanity and took a brush from the drawer. "May I?"

The boy nodded. Lavi ran the brush through his snowy locks. "So, what would you like to do today?'

"I'm not sure. Did you have any ideas in mind?"

"One." He knew the boy could see his smirk in the mirror.

"I swear to god, if you say, 'Sex.'-"

Lavi's laugh interrupted the whittet. "No, no, it's classier than that. I knew you'd think that, though." He consolingly stroked the boy's snowy hair.

Allen smirked slyly. "Then where did you have in mind?"

"I'd rather show than tell." Lavi set the brush back on the vanity, reached back into the drawer, and brought out a comb for the final touches.

"Is it expensive?" the boy inquired.

"Not particularly." He fretted for a moment. "Would you prefer it to be?"

The whittet snickered. "No, not at all. I just didn't want you to empty your pocket book on the first date."

Lavi's heart lifted in relief. "Thanks. I appreciate that." He set down the comb and ran his fingers through the boy's hair to check for any missed tangles. Finding none, only feeling soft, loosened follicles, he murmured, "You're so beautiful."

"I don't have any makeup on," the boy mentioned. "I left it at the Jade Club."

"You don't need it," Lavi assured him. "You're beautiful both with and without it."

The whittet's grin was visible in the mirror. He looked over his shoulder at Lavi's close face. Lavi leaned down, and their lips met in a sweet, chaste kiss. Once they had parted, Allen's smirk returned as he said, "Finish getting ready. I want to see what kind of place you have in mind."

Lavi nodded and took up the hairbrush left on the vanity.

The colors accentuated the boy's features, providing a vibrant backdrop for his canvas form. A soft breeze ruffled his hair, the strands wafting before his silver eyes. "The flowers bloomed early this year."

The bookman wrapped his arms around the boy and rested his head on top of his white crop. "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful."

Lavi buried his face in the boy's hair, breathing in his scent. He could have stayed with him like this forever.

"Lavi, I'm going to fall asleep if we stay like this."

He chuckled. "Then sleep. I'll wake you up in time for dinner if you don't wake up before then."

The boy attempted to snuggle into a more comfortable position. Lavi lay back, and the whittet nestled on the crook of his arm and chest. He closed his eyes and sighed sleepily. Lavi gazed up at the trees and sky, feeling the soft breeze and Allen's comfortable breathing, hearing the bees hum lazily from flower to flower, and smelling the alluring aroma of a full-fledged spring.

He really could stay like this forever.

"Would you care for dessert?"

Allen glanced at Lavi. The redhead shrugged.

"Yes, please," the whittet confirmed. "I'll have the fried ice cream, the chocolate volcano, the raspberry cheesecake, and the peach cobbler."

"You got it, Sir." The waiter scurried back to the kitchen.

"You do have quite the appetite," Lavi commented.

"Is that a problem?"

Lavi laughed. "Not at all. I just don't want you to get a stomach cramp in the middle of your performance."

Allen rolled his eyes. "I need all the energy I can get when I have to dance for that long."

"You also have quite the sweet tooth."

"I was _going_ to share."

"Thank you for gracing me with your kindness." He placed his hand upon the boy's. They both knew he was entitled to any of the desserts Allen ordered. After all, he was the one paying for dinner.

"How do I look?" He turned from his mirror to face Lavi.

The redhead put his fingers to the sides of Allen's face. He was careful not to spoil the carefully-formulated makeup. The boy's silver eyes were accented by black eyeliner, but his tattoo was not enhanced by extra branches as per norm. In fact, the boy was wearing less makeup for tonight's performance than he had for any other performance the bookman had attended.

"Not enough?" the whittet inquired concernedly.

"No," Lavi assured him, "just right."

The boy smiled and, taking Lavi's hand, led him outside. When they opened the door, Allen gestured toward a nearby professional at the music station, and the music changed. It took on a more Middle-Eastern tone. Allen whispered two words into his lover's ear before parting from him and making his way to the center of the floor. The partiers parted like the Red Sea for him. His hips moved like waves. His shoulders rolled. His hair fell in perfect formation with the swaying of his body. Lavi stood at the front of the crowd, not feeling at all obligated to move, just doing exactly what Allen had told him to do. In fact, he had no desire to do anything else.

"Watch this."

 _A Jade Shimmy_

-End-


End file.
